by Adam Collins
‘I do. I have a belly-full of wonderin’. I want to go home. Feel the soil of the Timberland woods under my feet again. Aye. Either underfoot, or o'er my dead body, one or the other.’ Helfwen took a long drink from a jug he had retrieved from his packs, and passed it to Brinn.
Brinn took a swig of the concoction and coughed as it scorched him from lip to tonsils. The burning fluid surged past his throat, all the way down his gullet, before finally causing minor eruptions in his stomach.
‘Aye ‘tis good stuff alright. That’s pure dwarf brandy,’ laughed Helfwen.
‘I hate to dampen the mood, but we’re in enemy territory so these tall tales will have to wait for another time,’ interrupted Brok.
‘I’ll take the watch,’ announced Brinn, trying to cool his burnt lips with the water skin.
‘I look forward to hearing more about your travels, especially up north. You must tell me everything,’ said Balzimar smiling warmly. Wizards are always in the market for strange tellings and new information about unknown parts.
‘And I’m the very dwarf to tell. Just fill my belly and uncork a jug and I’ll spin you a tale that’ll curl your ears,’ laughed Helfwen.
For it was true. Dwarves loved story telling almost as much as going to battle. And stories of battle were their most favoured of all. They settled down to sleep. Helfwen took a little longer than the others to find a comfortable position. He huffed and grumbled for long minutes before finding one. Then he sighed rather loudly and finally closed his eyes.
Soon all that could be heard were Helfwen's soft snores and the rustling of the leaves in the branches overhead.
27. A Delightful Diversion
Grik pulled up beside the wagon and slowed his horse to a walk. ‘There She be, ladies. That be Briar,’ he pointed up the road.
Not quite as large as Ash, Briar looked to have had a similar architect. It was constructed using the same untreated, roughly-hewn, logs and had identical flat roofed houses with a palisade running all the way around its perimeter.
‘She’s not much to look at mind, but she’s all mine. I have three hundred men at arms. Here, my word is law,’ he thumped his chest feeling very proud of himself. His brazen grin clearly showing the newly acquired gaps in his teeth. Spurring his horse he rode ahead to the front of the column.
‘Here, my word is law,’ Anabel mimicked, while pulling a face that had Merrith crying with laughter. ’He makes good the argument for why men shouldn’t lay with beasts.’
Merrith doubled over, ‘Please stop, Anabel, he’ll hear me,’ she squealed through clamped fingers.
As they entered through the town gates the squalor became apparent. If Ash was bad, then Briar was much worse. Ragged scrawny limbed townspeople with downcast eyes trod the streets. The slavers were in the fullness of health and walked about with an arrogant swagger pushing and abusing any unfortunates foolish enough to stray too close.
Grik’s quarters were situated on an elevated site in the centre of the town, surrounded by a hastily erected wooden fence. The captives were driven into the courtyard. Grik barked orders to his men and rode back out of the compound. The guards brought the two women into the house and locked them in a room that had one large bed, a table, and a chair.
‘Not exactly sumptuous is it,’ mused Anabel.
‘No...I don’t think comfort was a priority,’ agreed Merrith looking around.
Anabel walked to the small window and opened it to allow some air into the stuffy room. The frame swung back a full ninety degrees before thudding noisily against the iron cage that enfolded the window's outer casement. The town stretched around them in a semi circle. There was no structure to the layout. The dwellings were erected in a haphazard way without planning or forethought. A myriad of small dirt roads and dark alleys corralled the houses into irregular groups. A smell of filth and decay hung heavily over all.
To the rear of the town, Anabel could just about see the slave pens. Up to three thousand people were imprisoned together awaiting transfer east or north. They looked wretched, and either sat alone, or in small groups. Mothers hugging children, husbands hugging wives. Anabel’s temper rose. She grabbed and pulled one of the iron bars and to her surprise it moved a little. The building was old and the window-frame was rotten. She froze. Had anyone noticed, she wondered. Looking around the compound she saw the guards still in idle conversation at various points along the nearby walls. There were no ringing bells nor shouts of alarm. She tugged on a second bar and it also moved. She smiled and stepped away from the window.
Waiting for nightfall, the women took turns trying to loosen the bars further. One would stand listening at the door, while the other would keep working the bars backwards and forwards, freeing them a little more with each pull. Near midnight Merrith heard heavy footsteps approaching. Anabel closed the window and they both jumped into bed. A bolt was thrown back, and the door opened as Grik entered.
He had come for Merrith, ‘Girl! Wake up!’ he whispered harshly.
Anabel rose onto an elbow and glared at him, while placing a protective arm across Merrith.
Grik held up his lamp and saw the murderous look in Anabel's eyes. He hesitated, rubbing his bushy black beard and split lip, he stepped back out of the room and bolted the door shut. Anabel listened to his retreating footfalls until she was satisfied that he was truly gone, then allowed her staunched breath to escape in a long slow release. Merrith hugged her tightly in thanks. By dawn’s approached, one of the bars was loose enough to be pushed aside while the second was close to breaking free. Anabel arranged them so that they looked untouched, and both women returned to bed. Somewhere outside a cockerel announced the arrival of the new day with a raucous crow. The townsfolk stirred and slipped from warm beds, their weary hands groping for lamps in the predawn dark. Anabel and Merrith, exhausted by their endeavours, dropped easily down into sleep. Two hours later there was a thud as the door-bolt was opened and a portly, grey-haired, woman entered with a tray of food. ‘Come on now, me hearties, time to get up. Come on, me sleepy-heads, wake up now,’ she called cheerily.
Anabel managed to raise her head from the pillow. Her hair was a jumbled mess of tangled knots and waving strands.
‘Good morn, dearie. I’ve brought you a bit of food to help you break-fast,’ she smiled again lifting the tray up for Anabel to see.
Anabel nodded, ‘Thank you,’ she croaked.
‘My-my, dearie, you look terrible, if you don’t mind me sayin’. Are you coming down with somethin’? The old woman cooed in a soft caring voice.
‘No I’m fine,’ Anabel covered.’ It was a very long trip.
I’m afraid, a hard wagon-bed does not lend to a good night’s rest.’
‘Of course. And there’s me cluckin’ on at you like an old roostin’ hen. Do forgive, dearie. My name's Rosa.’
Anabel eased herself out from under the blankets. She had slept in her clothes and now they were a bundle of creases.
The woman was old, and grandmotherly. She placed the tray down on the table and started unloading the dishes. The two steaming bowls of porridge, bread, cheese, and jam, reminded them just how hungry they really were and they tucked in to the food with relish.
‘Goodness you are famished. Didn’t you sup last night?’ asked Rosa.
‘No,’ answered Anabel. ‘That brute, Grik, forgets that people need food to survive.’
‘Well that’s just not good enough, if you ask me,’ Rosa shook her head disapprovingly. ‘I’ll have a word with my grandson about it. Did you know that he runs this whole place?’ she said, making a sweeping motion with both arms.
Anabel looked up at the old woman who stood smiling blankly back at her, ‘Your grandson is...Grik?’
‘Who? No-no-no,’ she shook her head dismissively. ‘Never heard of no Grik, dearie. My grandson...Fengrik…Fengrik Spritely.’
‘Anabel blinked the sleep from her eyes, ‘What does Fengrik look like?’
‘Oh you can’t miss him. He has
big broad shoulders and black whiskers. Takes after his father he does,’ she nodded.
‘Am I delirious for lack of sleep or did she just say that Grik’s name is Fengrik Sprightly?’ whispered Merrith, looking like she was on the verge of another bout of hysterics.
Anabel gave her a gentle kick under the table.
‘Yes we know him, Rosa,’ smiled Anabel.
Rosa looked confused, ‘Know who, dearie?’ she scratched her head.
‘Fengrik,’ said Anabel.
‘You know, Fengrik?’Rosa asked, looking excited.
‘Yes Rosa we know him,’ nodded Anabel.
‘He’s my grandson you know,’ Rosa smiled broadly. ‘He runs this whole place by himself. Clever lad, he is.’
It quickly became obvious that the poor old lady was easily confused. The girls chatted politely to Rosa as they ate, and had to repeat themselves on more than a few occasions. While Rosa was distracted Anabel slipped the breadknife down into her breeches. It was sharp and she had to be careful not to slice her leg open as she shoved it down. They also kept the extra bread and cheese and stowed it beneath their blankets.
‘Well it was so nice talking to you girls, but I must be about my duties now,’ Rosa finally said, while loading the empty dishes onto the tray. As she got to the door she turned. ‘I must tell my grandson about you two lovelies. It’s about time he settled down and found himself a nice girl.’
Anabel and Merrith smiled and nodded politely. Rosa closed and bolted shut the door.
It was almost midnight. Grik sat in his strong room recounting his gold for the second time that day. He loved the feel of the cool heavy metal in his hands. The coins shimmered in the flicker of yellow lamplight. Bright and golden, like evening sunlight on calm waters. He scooped up a double handful and let them trickle through his fingers. He was a rich man now and would soon be even richer. The hard work of recent years had finally paid off and he could now retire to Gantu-Prime in luxury. No that’s not true, he corrected, but it soon would be. Just as soon as that final payment was made. He smiled and raised the whiskey jug to his lips again. He had been drinking all evening. Now the room was starting to move of its own accord. He grinned, enjoying the disjointed dance unfolding before him. He wanted company and remembered Merrith. He smiled again, but then the smile dropped as an image of Anabel’s angry face appeared from the mists of his inebriated mind. Deciding against the idea he drained the contents of the jug, then hiccupped and burped.
The room was spinning even faster now. He tried to place the coins back into the wooden chest that he used to store his gold, but missed and dropped half a handful to the floor. Stacked in neat columns of ten, the coins covered most of the table he was sitting at. It was no use. His bleary, overly moist, eyes struggled to focus as the chest started a slow undulating circular movement that got faster the longer he stared. With an effort he tried to get out of the chair, but found that his legs no longer worked. He collapsed back down and fell forward as he passed out across the table-top sending coins flying in all directions. Soon the sound of his raucous snoring reverberated through the house.
Anabel wanted to wait until she was sure Grik had gone to bed. There was no point attempting the escape early. If he came into their room, as he had done the night before, and discovered them gone, all the effort would be for nothing. So they waited and listened for his approach. It was well past midnight before she was happy that he wasn’t coming. They slipped out of bed and removed the knife and food from beneath the mattress. Anabel looked out the window. Apart from a number of small brazier fires on the perimeter wall and the odd streetlamp, the town was dark. With great care she gently opened the window and pushed the bars apart. There was just enough room to slip through. Tying the blankets together they made a rope and secured it to the leg of the bed. It was basic, but would suffice. Anabel helped Merrith through the opening. She grasped and hung on tightly to the rope-blanket and slid down to the lower level of the house. Anabel soon followed. They found themselves on flat roof of the lower tier and inched along, carefully feeling their way to the edge and peered over.
Below them a flat-bed wagon had been parked against the side of the house. Anabel lowered herself down as far as she could, and dropped onto the back of the wagon. Merrith followed, but had Anabel's shoulders to stand on as she lowered herself down. There was light shining through a slit between two of the logs that made up the east wall of the house. Anabel pressed her eye against the little opening. Inside she could make out a small room filled with boxes and trinkets. And there sprawled across a table in the middle of the room lay Grik. The slaver’s comatose body was surrounded by hundreds of gold coins. Anabel’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the gold and she was momentarily transfixed by the scene. A tug on her sleeve from Merrith brought her out of her reverie. Anabel showed Merrith the gold.
‘It seems he’s gotten his payment. I hope he chokes in his sleep,’ hissed Anabel.
‘Anabel please, we have to go,’ pleaded Merrith.
Anabel nodded and they left the wagon. The stock fence around Grik's house was not sturdily built. The wooden poles were strapped together with rope that was rotten and easily cut. Once a few had been loosened they were able to slip through to the town proper and quickly disappeared into its warren of dark streets. Anabel had a rough idea of where the main gate was, but it still took the best part of an hour to find it. One guard stood watch. He was leaning against the side wall, partially obscured by the dark. Anabel saw his feet sticking out from the shadows just before they blundered straight into him. They hid in an alley behind some empty barrels.
‘Now what do we do?’ asked a wide eyed Merrith.
‘Hang on, let me think,’ answered Anabel, biting a thumbnail. ‘We need a distraction.’ Anabel leaned forward and ripped Merrith's dress along its seam exposing one of her legs up to the thigh.
‘Hey!’ objected Merrith.
Without stopping Anabel reached over and undid four buttons on Merrith's blouse.
‘Will you please tell me what you are doing?’ asked a bemused Merrith.
‘You, my dear, are going to be our distraction. And a mighty pretty one at that. If this doesn’t scramble his brains,’ indicating Merrith's plunging neckline. ‘Then this will,’ Anabel held up a large lump of wood.
Merrith smiled, ‘You could have explained, before tearing at my clothes. What do you want me to do?’
‘Just walk past him and smile, and let nature do the rest. When he's hooked, bring him over here,’ Anabel hefted the piece of wood and made a swiping movement with it.
Merrith swayed out of the alley and over past the gate. The guard stood out from the wall as she approached and smiled. As she passed him by he went to walk after her.
‘Hello there, pretty, haven’t seen you here before. Wot you doing out by yourself, an’ it being so late?’
‘I’m visiting my uncle. He lives on the other side of town. Just needed some fresh air, the night's hot, and his house is so stuffy,’ Merrith placed her hand on her neck and ran it down towards her chest.
The guard’s eyes bulged, ‘It’s not safe outdoors at night, didn’t your uncle warn you, missy?’
‘He can’t keep me cooped up like that all the time, it’s not natural. A woman needs some freedom,’ Merrith allowed her hand to fall against his chest.
The guard swallowed nervously. He was starting to sweat.
‘You see! You’re hot too. It’s just so clammy tonight,’ Merrith smiled seductively, while simultaneously gathering her long hair into a ponytail with both hands.
‘It's getting steamy alright,’ he agreed stepping closer.
‘I know a nice dark alley just back over there that we could go to. To help us cool off,’ she smiled. There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes..
‘I’m not s’posed to leave my post, you see,’ he said, but his mind was already ablaze.
Merrith stepped back, ‘Oh well, I don’t want to get you into trouble, never mind,’ she smil
ed again.
The man stepped after her, ‘No! Please don’t go,’ he quickly looked about, making sure they were alone. ‘I could spare a few minutes. I mean it’s not like someone’s goin’ to run off with the gate now is it,’ he ran his free arm around Merrith's waist, pulled her close, and tried to kiss her.
Merrith leaned back away from his lips. ‘Not here! My uncle might see. We’ll have more privacy over there,’ she pointed towards the alley.
The guard nodded and followed closely behind as she sashayed back across the forecourt towards the shadows.
As they rounded the corner Merrith lead him past the barrels and turned to face him. He grinned down at her and went to step closer. Just as he removed his helmet a heavy blow knocked him senseless and he fell face down into the filth.
The girls opened the gate just wide enough to get out and then closed it behind them.
‘Now where?’ asked Merrith.
‘Anywhere but here,’ answered Anabel stealing away into the darkness.
Anabel’s heart was racing, she really hadn’t expected to get this far. That alone was a victory. As her mind cleared the enormity of their achievement began to sink in. They had succeeded against all odds. They had escaped. As they fled blindly into the night, not caring in which direction, Anabel knew it would be harder to stay free. But she was determined to do just so, no matter the cost, for as long as humanly possible.
End of Book One.
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BooK Two: Blood and Fire
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